


Let's Lose Our Minds

by h_lovely



Series: By The Ocean [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Blushing, Gratuitous neck kissing, M/M, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, We'll Eat Cake side story, fluff if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:19:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_lovely/pseuds/h_lovely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Look, I’m just here to celebrate Kuroo.” Iwaizumi went to snatch his drink back, but Oikawa brought it up to his lips again with a cursory smile. Iwaizumi’s fingers curled. “Not to get involved in some torrid love-triangle bullshit.”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Lose Our Minds

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is way filthier than I had anticipated. Sorry (not sorry). You don't have to have read We'll Eat Cake to enjoy this (though this does contain minor spoilers for anything pre-Chapter 9) but there is an underlying plot that goes along with the sin taking place here.
> 
> So without further ado, enjoy.

**** Iwaizumi Hajime had always enjoyed an adventure, a challenge. 

When he was young he’d come home from exploring the forests and ponds and creeks behind his nestled family home with copious scrapes and scratches and bruises and his mother would stand in the bathroom doorway with a box of bandages clutched between her fingers and frown in that loving sort of way that mother’s often do. 

As he grew a little older he found his love for sports and all things physical. Volleyball had certainly been a passion of his, but it was being outside under a burning sun or trudging his way through undergrowth and exploring new and uncharted territory that he’d always be most partial to. This obsession (as his friends and family would later refer to it as) was spurred perhaps by the fear of the unknown, the excitement of a place he’d never visited before, a mountain most never dared to climb, or simply a trail obscured and un-blazed. 

That might have had something to do with the reason why he’d moved halfway across the world when he’d finished university.

It also, perhaps, might’ve had a little something to do with why he couldn’t quite force himself to tear his eyes away from the entirely confusing and frustratingly opposite man that was literally flipping his hair and cocking his lithe hip and staring down at him in a predatory way that made Iwaizumi’s stomach churn.

Uncharted territory- maybe he was not as adventurous as he’d once so humbly assumed. 

Earlier, when he’d accepted the duty of guiding Kuroo and his eclectic lot of wedding guests through the jungle-like trails of Kailua he hadn’t exactly anticipated the tall and elegantly featured brunette that inadvertently clung to him like a timid shadow. It was odd to see that man, who’d been so doe-eyed and then mostly just wet and cranky not more than a few hours before, standing over him now with such an expression of _desire_. Iwaizumi found himself swallowing at the thought, forcing his eyes forward and his brows to furrow and to definitely just ignore this annoying, hovering presence because surely then it would just go away.

How sorely Iwaizumi wished he were right in that idea. 

“Iwa-chan!” 

That voice was so bold and sugary and obnoxious and _why the hell did he kind of want to hear it again?_ Iwaizumi looked up to glare at the man that had _indeed_ not gotten the hint, but his scowl flinched for a heartbeat as those mocha eyes burrowed into his own without so much as a bat of an eyelash. 

“Mind if I join you?” The words came out in a breathy whisper that had Iwaizumi’s fingers clenching against the damp coolness of the glass held between them. 

Oikawa did not give him much of an opportunity to answer, even if he was having trouble wracking his brains for just the appropriate insult to get the guy to retreat, and instead turned his vision to a point just over his shoulder, a point that Iwaizumi couldn’t help following. 

He watched Oikawa watching Sugawara and suddenly that churning in his gut was becoming a lot more pronounced. A fiery wave of frustration heated just beneath his skin at the idea of being used as one of this man’s pawns in whatever it was he had going on between himself and the silver-blond. 

But then, just as suddenly as Oikawa had appeared at his lonely table, he was sliding into the booth next to him, eyes and smile bright with something Iwaizumi couldn’t quite read. Perhaps it was just excitement or else something entirely more devious. 

“Using me to make him jealous isn’t going to work,” Iwaizumi found himself growling out between a clenched jaw.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Oikawa answered, the picture of innocence. He reached out and grasped the glass of amber liquid sitting in front of Iwaizumi, eyes lilting sideways before lifting the drink and taking a small, tentative sip. 

Iwaizumi felt his mouth running dry, but he would not be manipulated by someone who’d already proven to be so relentlessly annoying. “Sugawara-san has a boyfriend,” he bit out, watching the way Oikawa spun the ice around the tumbler with a flick of his wrist. “Sawamura-san?” 

Oikawa’s lips twitched and his eyes seemed to be suddenly infatuated with the liquid’s circular movement between his fingers. “Am I that easy to read?” he replied finally, voice having dropped an octave to something much more bitter than a moment before. 

What was going on here? There was no way that Iwaizumi was actually going to entertain this man’s wallowing or tactical game or whatever the hell this was. There was just no way- really, _no way._

“Look, I’m just here to celebrate Kuroo.” Iwaizumi went to snatch his drink back, but Oikawa brought it up to his lips again with a cursory smile. Iwaizumi’s fingers curled. “Not to get involved in some torrid love-triangle bullshit.”

“Torrid love-triangle?” Oikawa laughed and even as his features softened with amusement, his eyes were as sharp as ever. “Are you a fan of cheap romance novels, Iwa-chan?” 

His impulses were sparking, but Iwaizumi was having a surprisingly hard time keeping up with this man. “Don’t call me that,” he grunted out. 

“No?” Oikawa tilted his head thoughtfully. “What should I call you then?”

Iwaizumi felt the urge to swallow attack his throat again. “Nothing. Listen, what exactly is your angle here-” He had to fight back the incessant urge to use that stupid nickname he’d conjured up earlier. “- _Oikawa?_ ” 

He studied that full-lipped smirk, waiting for some type of snarky answer or sly comeback, but the other man simply allowed his shoulders to slump and his body to relax against the booth’s upholstered back. With a sigh he set Iwaizumi’s drink down atop the table and turned to look at him through thick lashes. 

“I’m here to celebrate Kuroo too,” he said. 

At that _look_ Iwaizumi felt as though something or someone was physically sucking the air out of his lungs. Maybe this was all some kind of practical joke, maybe any second now a scheming Kuroo or one of his equally unpredictable friends was going to come popping up over his shoulder yelling ‘gotcha!’ 

It didn’t happen. In fact, nothing happened for several minutes. The two just sat in silence, more comfortable than Iwaizumi might have predicted, and even the proximity of Oikawa didn’t have him cringing like it had initially. 

After observing the party together like that for nearly ten long minutes Oikawa finally caved. “You know, that wasn’t a very nice thing you did earlier. Pushing me into the water like that.” He spoke softly, but not just in tone, in demeanor as well like he was vying for attention, yet nervous to rock the boat.

Iwaizumi couldn’t fight off the smirk that attacked his lips at the memory. “You shouldn’t have been so obnoxious then.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan!” There went Oikawa’s placidity, what little there had been. “I’m _never_ obnoxious.”

Brow quirking on cue, Iwaizumi turned to meet that thrust lower lip with as much composure as he could manage. “Case in point.” 

Oikawa’s eyes flashed, but instead of annoyance it was almost a glint of appreciation. He actually smiled at Iwaizumi’s sharp tongue and the expression had Iwaizumi turning his gaze, almost ruffled.

A heartbeat later Oikawa changed tactics. “Iwa-” he started before the name seemed to catch in his throat. “Iwaizumi,” he said instead, even as the fullness of the name seemed oddly foreign. “You’re not mad?”

Iwaizumi blinked. “Mad?”

“At me.” Oikawa’s eyes dropped a fraction and his demeanor reverted back to something almost abashed. “I _might_ have been using you _a little_ to make Suga-chan jealous. But only just for a minute!”

Iwaizumi grunted, a scowl coming to mask his features. “He’s not even paying attention anymore so why are you still sitting here?”

“Because I _want_ to,” Oikawa threw back, matching his chagrin like a petulant child. “Besides, I don’t think it was really working anyways. You’re good looking Iwa-chan, but not exactly comparable to, for example, someone like _me_.”

“So sorry I couldn’t be of more help, _Shittykawa_.” That time, with teeth gnashing and hands curling into fists, Iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to use anything other than the fittingly rude nickname. 

But, for all it was worth, Oikawa just ignored him, breezing on in his rambling explanation. “-but, I just can’t stand how happy he seems.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes rolled unable to totally comprehend how he was still sitting here even having this conversation. “That’s quite the horrible personality you’ve got.”

“Rude.” Oikawa’s tongue poked between pearly teeth. “All I’m saying is-” he paused, chewing against his lower lip and thankfully not noticing how the simple action was causing Iwaizumi’s muscles to tense. “-I _may_ have made a mistake. And I may have thought he’d forgive me, but now-”

“Now _you’re_ the jealous one.” Iwaizumi was still frowning, still angry that this man was invading his personal space, spilling all this pointless crap to him, and staring down with those big brown eyes at long fingers that twiddled against the table top in obvious stress-induced anxiety. He was still angry, yes, but (for some unfathomable reason) he actually felt kind of sorry for the guy. 

Oikawa nodded solemnly, agreeing with little provocation. “And the worst part is that I’m not even emotionally attached anymore. Suga and I, we were a good match, but we weren’t _the_ match.”

Iwaizumi forced himself to swallow the sentiment behind those words. Could it be that this man was not quite the self-centered asshole he had so quickly pegged him for?

“ _The_ match?” Iwaizumi snorted, trying to catch himself from slipping entirely right then and there. “Don’t tell me, you believe in _soul mates_ and shit like that?”

The intensity with which Oikawa met his gaze was something Iwaizumi would never be able to wipe from his memory. “I do,” he said, voice low and unwavering, eyes fierce and alight with something that caused Iwaizumi’s skin to tingle. 

This- _this_ was definitely uncharted territory. Huh. Well, tonight was certainly shaping up to be an adventure. Just not one he’d ever thought himself capable of.

* * *

It seemed, to Oikawa Tooru at least, that one Iwaizumi Hajime was not quite as tough and rugged and hard-headed as he portrayed himself to be.

And it wasn’t that Iwaizumi had suddenly become soft and cuddly and _nice_ (yes, definitely not that last one) but the way the man looked at him, the depth clear in his dark eyes, gave Oikawa the idea that maybe (just maybe) he was actually making a good impression here. 

That is until powerful fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist, squeezing until Oikawa’s gaze looked up in shock. Iwaizumi looked- _angry_ didn’t seem to be quite the right word, but he wasn’t sure what else it could be. They’d been talking ( _just talking_ ) about literally nothing. A few bits about volleyball came up, some little menial blurbs about their professions, a harmless bet on how many drinks it would take the groom-to-be to start singing or dancing on tabletops (as it turned out the magic number had been ten and Oikawa ended up with the few bills Iwaizumi could begrudgingly rustle up out of his tattered wallet.)

So, as Oikawa stared wide-eyed into a gaze so intense it caused his skin to itch, he wasn’t exactly sure where he’d gone wrong. 

Probably trying to use this man to force Suga-chan to pine away in longing was not the best decision he’d ever made. But, they’d already established that that had pretty much been a pointless endeavor anyways, right? Everything was on principle- even this feigned conversation, wasn’t it?

Oikawa blinked and opened his mouth to try and escape whatever berating seemed to be coming his way, but Iwaizumi spoke first.

“Do you want to get out of here?” His voice was deep, resonant, and Oikawa felt his stomach drop at the words. Well, that had escalated rather quickly. 

He’d assumed his minor flirting had been harmless, more of an over-compensation for Iwaizumi’s sake so that the man couldn’t see how truly nervous Oikawa felt around him. But now- maybe ‘ _get out of here_ ’ didn’t really mean what he thought it meant.

It seemed Iwaizumi was rather impatient for some kind of reply. “You do have a room at the hotel, right?” he asked, voice still edged with something a little unreadable.

Oikawa nodded, swallowing when he felt his throat constricting. Apparently it meant _exactly_ what he’d been thinking. “Yes,” he answered, voice much more confident than he’d expected. 

This was silly, why was he so nervous? It’s not like he wasn’t attracted to Iwaizumi...

Oikawa let out a little gasp as he was forcibly tugged out of the booth and, with no more words exchanged between them, Iwaizumi led him out of the restaurant before anyone would even notice they were gone. 

* * *

The first kiss was a bit rushed. Their mouths crashed together as Iwaizumi pulled him around the edge of the restaurant’s front entrance, molding their bodies together against the stucco siding as though it were compulsory.

The second kiss was softer, several yards from the bachelor party still taking place without them. Oikawa found his back pushed against the trunk of a palm, moonlight spilling through the overhead fronds just enough to illuminate the way Iwaizumi’s gaze burrowed into his own. Their mouths brushed sweet and less hurried, a tongue coming to caress Oikawa’s bottom lip, coaxing and teasing it until Iwaizumi had latched onto a particularly sensitive spot just beneath his jaw. 

By the fifth kiss Oikawa was drowning. Crowded against an alcove wall, skin burning in the hotel’s icy air, he could do little else but relax into Iwaizumi’s arms. A talented mouth roved across his collarbone, biting at the taught flesh there in unpredictable patterns. Oikawa’s lips felt swollen and kiss-red if the way his partner’s own lips were flushed was any indication. 

He let out a tiny sound as a tongue flicked over a blooming mark that had been left somewhere back between the second and third kiss. Palms callused and rough ran up and down his exposed forearms, soothing as the nips and licks at his throat became more aggressive. 

Oikawa blinked, trying to keep his eyes open for fear that if they closed he would allow himself to slip, too-far gone. This had certainly not been his intention for the evening. Have a little fun, _sure_ , provoke and tease, _maybe_ , make a new (and very handsome) acquaintance, _perhaps_. 

But this had been entirely _unprecedented_. And, as Oikawa brought his heavy-lidded eyes up to gaze dazedly across Iwaizumi’s shoulder, so had been the eyes he caught staring back at him. 

_Boyfriend-san_. What was left of his mind attempted to swallow down the ugly thought, but he couldn’t quite even focus enough to be totally sure of the voyeur’s identity. 

But as those dark, round eyes refused to release his gaze Oikawa realized that this was indeed the (second-to) last person he wanted watching as he was taken apart piece by piece. 

Iwaizumi bit down against the sensitive tendon between neck and shoulder and Oikawa felt his throat clench around a whine. That broke the eye-contact, his own vision going black as lids slid closed as the sensation of writhing hot lips against his skin began to prove too much.

Yet he could still feel that gaze upon him, surely chastising. He should feel guilty- not for indulging, but for his indeterminate dislike for the man Sugawara had found such obvious happiness with. He was unfair, he knew he always had been, and keeping someone you don’t love unconditionally fettered to you was unfair by definition. 

The elevator chimed and Oikawa squirmed. Iwaizumi, perhaps a little unfair himself, tightened his stance, pushing a sharp knee between Oikawa’s slightly longer legs as if to prove his control. Breath heated the expanse just below his left ear and Oikawa’s eyes flickered open to find no-one staring back, the only sign that anyone had been there at all, the slide of elevator doors and the illumination of gradient numbers. 

The fingers that had slithered across his wrists weakened a fraction as Iwaizumi finally spoke. “Okay?” he asked, hushed and rumbling into Oikawa’s foggy head. The single word was filled with such complexity that it did nothing to stop his mind from spinning on its axis. 

Oikawa nodded, pushing off the wall and straight into Iwaizumi’s very solid frame only to illicit a duel shiver from them both as clearly formed arousals could be felt amidst both of their suddenly too-tight slacks. Twisting his wrist and latching onto Iwaizumi’s own, Oikawa pulled him toward the elevators, thrusting an impatient finger against the little up arrow that seemed to be staring at him, taunting.

“My room,” Oikawa’s voice was shakier than he’d expected. An elevator behind them dinged its fast arrival. “ _Now_ ,” he added for good measure, as Iwaizumi quirked an infuriating eyebrow at his sudden tenacity. 

The carriage was small, chokingly small as the two stood next to one another shoulders and knuckles brushing every few seconds. This was stupid, Oikawa thought. So _stupid_ , but just what he wanted and needed and to force himself to stop feeling guilty and unfair because what he had done had been the _right thing to do_. 

If Suga was happy, then why couldn’t he be happy too?

When the doors crawled open Oikawa bolted, wanting to leave whatever weird tension had built up on the fifteen second ride up and go back to the lust filled state Iwaizumi had forced upon him outside the restaurant, against that palm, beneath the shadows and that sharp gaze.

It took him three tries to get his hotel room door to open. His hands were quivering, partly due to nerves and partly due to the fact that Iwaizumi was leaning against the wall, mere inches separating them, watching and waiting as if he had all the time in the world to do so. 

It had begun as harmless flirting, as preconceived provocation. But now, as Oikawa swung the door open with a slight flush of triumph and powerful hands went to latch onto his hips before the room could barely even be entered, it was clear to him that this was definitely turning into something entirely different. 

The door slammed shut and immediately Oikawa’s back was shoved against it, hard enough to perhaps leave a mark blooming there come morning, but he really couldn’t be bothered with that as Iwaizumi crowded him against the dark wood and slipped a tongue inside his mouth as if he was trying to see how deep inside he could go before crushing him completely. 

Oikawa let out a shaky breath when their mouths parted in a need for oxygen, sloppy and wet, and he studied Iwaizumi. He had the urge to say something silly and cliched like ‘ _this is actually happening, isn’t it?’_ or ‘ _take me, Iwa-chan_ ,’ but he resisted and instead said, “I want you to know that this is not something I normally do.” 

Iwaizumi shot him an entirely confused look, like he was trying to figure out just why Oikawa was bothering to try and save face at a time like this. “What?” he grunted out, arching a brow like he might actually be a bit offended. 

“I mean- I want to, _definitely_.” Oikawa swallowed, giving the man pinning him to the door an unapologetic and quite lustful once-over. “But- but I don’t want you to think that I’m just using you-”

“Can you just shut up?” The tone was harsh, biting. But when Oikawa looked to meet Iwaizumi’s crooked eyebrows he could see the amusement there- the amusement at Oikawa’s clearly unnecessary fluster. 

So, with little more provocation, Oikawa allowed his knees to slacken and he sunk to the floor grabbing at the button of Iwaizumi’s pants before the other man could do little more than shutter at the sight. 

“Oh yes,” Oikawa’s eyes lilted upwards, his mouth curving to set the man hovering above him with a wry smile. “I can shut up, if you like?” 

With shaking hands and impatience Oikawa tugged at the other man’s briefs to reveal hard flesh and wetness that told him that Iwaizumi was feeling just as impatient about this as he. 

It took only the hitch of Iwaizumi’s hips as Oikawa’s breath flittered against the reddened skin of the cock before him to persuade an eager tongue and lips to swallow Iwaizumi down. Oikawa tried not to relish the sensation of it in his mouth, the heat already coming to nudge at the back of his throat- but he couldn’t stop the smug hum he emitted when Iwaizumi moaned- _loudly._

He increased the suction, pulling is mouth backwards until he was just teasing the slippery head and slit. Oikawa brought nimble fingers up to graze over the length now unstimulated by his tongue earning him another tremor of pleasure from the man now clenching fists against the wall in a poor attempt to keep them from tangling in Oikawa’s hair. 

Sucking him down again, agonizingly slow, Oikawa began to adjust his rhythm. He wanted, suddenly and irrevocably, to drive Iwaizumi over the edge with just his mouth, to bring his hips forward and have that cock slam against the back of his throat. He wanted Iwaizumi to-

With a sudden need for oxygen, eyes glazed and mind going numb, Oikawa pulled back. He sucked air in through his nose, finding his headspace again, and then tilted his gaze to meet Iwaizumi watching him through half-lidded eyes. His thighs were trembling just barely beneath Oikawa’s trailing fingertips.

“You want to come-” Oikawa flicked a tongue to run against his lower lip. “-all over my face, don’t you?”

Iwaizumi just growled in response, not quite able to formulate words at the current juncture. 

Oikawa leaned forward, purred against the skin of his partially exposed thigh. “But you’re not going to.” It was a command, one he felt a swell of pride for within his chest. That is, until Iwaizumi next spoke.

“No,” the man conceded, just before adding with a rumbling little chuckle. “No, because I plan on coming _inside you_ instead.”

There was a moment when Oikawa feared his mind had gone entirely numb, but then hands were tugging at his arms and when he stood Iwaizumi attacked his neck again while simultaneously starting to impatiently strip him of his clothing. 

Both of their shirts came off with relative ease, shoes being left somewhere between the front door and the bed piled high with fluffy, white pillows. Iwaizumi’s pants were next, having been partially tugged off his hips from Oikawa’s previous ministrations. By the time Oikawa’s knees hit the back of the bed, Iwaizumi’s tongue was crawling up the shell of his ear and the slacks still clinging to Oikawa’s lithe legs were becoming an increasingly frustrating problem.

Iwaizumi brought surprisingly steady fingers to bat away Oikawa’s less stable hands, grabbing at layers of gabardine and slick, black cotton to pull away the remainder of fabric separating their (now entirely) naked bodies. 

Oikawa found his mind fogging over like it had in the semi-private alcove of the elevator bank. Was it just lust or something else driving these sudden and dream-like actions? On all accounts, it was becoming difficult to see the lines they might be crossing, as blurred as everything other than Iwaizumi’s firm touch against his skin was becoming.

When teeth nibbled at the juncture between shoulder and neck his knees buckled and Oikawa fell back onto the bed. He was not entirely certain that it could still be _him_ making all of those breathless noises. 

“Iwa-chan, are you sure?” he managed to mumble out around the unpredictable tremors of his muscles.

Hands gripped at his hips in answer and Oikawa let out a soft yelp as he was pulled the few inches towards the edge of the bed. Startled, his back arched to sit up but Iwaizumi’s fingers steadied themselves against his abdomen, pushing him back down.

“Stay,” came the hushed command, the tone liquefying Oikawa’s insides in a single instant. 

After a second’s worth of consideration, Oikawa allowed his neck to twist and tilt in order to catch a glimpse of Iwaizumi’s body kneeling in front of the bed, right where his backside was hanging precariously close to the precipice of the cushioning mattress. Careful hands guided his legs to bend, allowing his feet to rest against the duvet while giving Iwaizumi a view that had Oikawa’s entire body burning red. 

The first swipe of a tongue over his entrance forced the air from Oikawa’s lungs. The second, a teasing swirl, had him pushing forward into the warm, wet touch. Iwaizumi gripped his thighs, clipped nails digging just short of painful into the sensitive skin there. Iwaizumi sucked and Oikawa groaned. 

When a hand meandered to Oikawa’s neglected length he flinched forward against the tongue still lapping at him. He was certain he could feel the soft smirk that graced Iwaizumi’s busy mouth.

“Iwa-chan,” he admonished, the name nearly indistinguishable in his gasping state. Iwaizumi’s fingers mingled in the slick pre-cum gathering over the head of Oikawa’s cock and his tongue pressed forward against a trembling ring of tight muscle. 

Iwaizumi’s hand lazily began to stroke him, his tongue straining inwards until Oikawa’s body finally managed to relax (as much as he could in his current state). When Iwaizumi finally pulled back his voice was deep and rough. “Lube?” he grunted out.

With eyes blown dark Oikawa stared down at him before answering airily. “Bathroom. Leather kit,” he instructed with what little mental capacity he could muster. “Condoms too,” he added as Iwaizumi stood rapidly. 

At the sound of bare feet padding across the room Oikawa forced himself back into reality as far as his body would allow. He pulled himself up on bony elbows, stretching his bent legs before any stiffness could settle in and tried to prop himself in some sort of nonchalant manner against the pillows. 

When Iwaizumi returned, carrying a glinting foil packet and hurriedly popping the cap of a bottle held in his other hand, however, any composure Oikawa had instilled in himself was quickly thrown out the window. 

Iwaizumi’s knees pressed down against the bed and when he crawled up over Oikawa’s frame the heat of their shared bodies was almost suffocating. A hand lingered across Oikawa’s hardness before it dipped lower and then their legs are tangling and mouths colliding. 

When the first finger entered him Oikawa bit down against Iwaizumi’s lip, the sensation walking the line between pleasure and pain. When it pushed forward and grazed across his prostate Oikawa’s eyes flashed open and his teeth clenched tightly.

Iwaizumi hummed against his mouth in satisfaction. Oikawa’s brows knit, but he could think of nothing else other than his trembling, needy reaction to being opened up on this man’s fingers- the man he’d assumed absolutely despised him upon thinking back onto their very limited (and not so pleasant) interactions up until this point. 

“One more,” Oikawa said, not even thinking clearly, but still coherent enough to give the instruction. 

Iwaizumi obliged him easily and suddenly Oikawa was losing control. His hips bucked up into the air and his mouth fell open to emit little whispers of nonsense and half-formed murmurs of _Iwa-chan_. The name fell off his tongue like the most natural thing in the universe. 

When Oikawa thought for sure he’d reached his precipice, when his muscles began to twitch and his mind began to grow blank was when Iwaizumi pulled back. At first the emptiness was almost painful. Oikawa let out a little whine of need, but then Iwaizumi was back, the callused skin of his hands running over Oikawa’s chest and neck and jaw until he was holding him there, tenderly, and kissing into Oikawa’s mouth. 

There was little warning other than the warmth of Iwaizumi’s erection sliding against his sensitive skin and then suddenly he was pushing forward and Oikawa felt his body automatically tense. 

It didn’t last long, however, as a tongue trailed down the curve of his neck and moved to suck a blooming mark above his collar bone and Oikawa felt his muscles slacken and allow the other man to press in until he was fully seated. 

They stayed like that for a moment, intertwined and wholly connected, Iwaizumi’s tongue soothing the already forming bruise and Oikawa’s breathing finding its way back to something even and regulated. 

“Come on, don’t stop,” Oikawa managed after another few seconds. His teeth were ground together and it came out rather deep and ragged.

Iwaizumi let out an odd little chuckle, rising to lean on steady forearms and hover over the man beneath him. “You’re bossy,” he said pointedly.

When Oikawa’s lips parted to respond Iwaizumi pulled back a little, testing, and it caused the other man’s breath to escape his lungs rather rapidly. Opening his eyes (when had he even closed them in the first place?) Oikawa glared up into the shining brown ones staring down at him. “Does that _surprise_ you?” he finally panted out.

In answer Iwaizumi’s hips drove forward again and a shiver of pleasure forced goosebumps over every surface of Oikawa’s body. With the talking clearly over Iwaizumi initiated a rhythm that had Oikawa’s mouth latching onto any inch of available skin just to keep from moaning out with every new thrust. 

When he bit down on a nipple however, Iwaizumi growled trapping Oikawa’s wondering jaw in his fingers and forcing their mouths back together. He canted his hips upwards and caught the vibrating moan that rose from Oikawa’s throat with a heady smirk. 

It took a little time for Oikawa to focus again, but when he did he couldn’t help but gaze into the strained but sharp features of the man above him. He reminded himself of the morning before, of the way the sunlight had played against those features and the tanned skin now glistening with exertion had glowed bronze against the emerald foliage and clear, blue water. 

He licked at his lips, readying himself to speak, to say something, anything. But it was Iwaizumi who ended up breaking their silence first.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, mouth brushing against Oikawa’s temple as his movements suddenly began to feel a bit more erratic. 

Oikawa’s eyes flashed wide, but the movement proved to only broaden the crooked smile Iwaizumi was gracing him with. 

A hand found its way between them and grasped at Oikawa’s cock causing his voice to finally crack. “Ah- Iwa- if you do that I’m going to-”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi murmured against the shell of his ear. 

That voice, one he’d not realized would have quite this effect on him, caused Oikawa’s legs to wrap more forcefully around Iwaizumi, urging him forward and thrusting up into his hand with the movement. He reached up to paw at the back of Iwaizumi’s neck, feeling the tickling of short hair there and pulling him down until their lips crashed, sloppy and wet. 

It was in this moment that Oikawa began to wonder if this were a mistake. Not a mistake in that less than an hour previous he’d used this man in some ill-thought attempt at making his long-lost ex jealous or the fact that he’d blatantly admitted to Iwaizumi that he was, in fact, probably a horrible person for _wanting_ to make his ex jealous for no other reason than his own petty insecurities. But the odd sensations blooming in his chest (definitely due to the lust-filled adrenaline of the moment, he kept mentally insisting) was causing the lines to blur and Oikawa began to wonder just what would happen once this was over. 

Their lips parted with a trail of moisture and suddenly Iwaizumi was panting much louder than before, his head bending down to pepper kisses across Oikawa’s chest. 

Oikawa could feel it coming before it happened. It was in the way the trailing mouth faltered against his sternum and Iwaizumi’s grip, one hand around his cock and one hand bruising against his hip, became slightly more pronounced. Then he was being pushed, tumbling over the edge after Iwaizumi with a few more rapid strokes and the unsteady slap of skin against skin. 

When it was over and Iwaizumi had finally rolled off Oikawa’s trembling frame and run the tap in the bathroom to bring a warm washcloth back to clean themselves up, that was when Oikawa’s earlier concerns decided to catch up with him.

He watched the way Iwaizumi moved, casually and with little forethought, just swiping at Oikawa’s belly with an unpredictable gentleness and folding back the covers to allow his long legs to tangle beneath them. It was domestic and strange and Oikawa was beginning to wonder if they hadn’t just met earlier this morning, but had somehow been doing this together for a lifetime.

“Iwa-chan?” he murmured, after curling on his side when Iwaizumi finally crawled back into bed. 

Iwaizumi regarded him, laying on his back and crooking his neck away from staring languidly at the ceiling. “Hm?”

“Still think I have a horrible personality?” Oikawa wondered, not trying at all to hide the little lilt to his lips. 

Staring, Iwaizumi gave him an unimpressed look. “Yes,” he replied rather bluntly.

If Oikawa had been expecting any other answer he might have been offended. Yet instead he just let his smile grow wider. “But I’m gorgeous, so that makes up for it, right?”

The little twitch of Iwaizumi’s lips had the butterflies in Oikawa’s stomach rallying. “Not exactly,” he answered, though this time his rudeness was much less pronounced. 

“Iwa-chan, you’re still so mean-” Oikawa sighed keeping pace with the ruse. “-even after mind blowing sex.”

They were silent then for a few moments save for the sound of simultaneous breaths and the occasional sweep of skin beneath cotton sheets. 

“This isn’t something I normally do either,” Iwaizumi said, speaking up into the darkness surrounding them, his voice low and surprisingly thoughtful.

Oikawa felt his cheeks flush and was glad that the moonlight filtering into the room was too dim for the redness to be seen for all that it was. “I’m not sure whether to be relieved by that or not,” he whispered back. 

There came a gravelly chuckle in response. “Just don’t go spouting off bullshit about soulmates or anything.”

It was as much a confession as anything between them and Oikawa felt his heart catch behind his ribcage. 

Instead of allowing Iwaizumi the satisfaction of hearing just how breathless he’d become, Oikawa answered with a haughty, “Iwa-chan, really. What do you take me for?”

“An idiot who believes in soulmates.”

“Be _nice_ ,” Oikawa admonished, this time with full sincerity. He paused then to observe the other man through thick lashes. His mind wondered and he couldn’t fight the flurry of realization that hovered in his gut. “They seem good together,” he admitted softly. “Very happy.”

Iwaizumi looked to him from the edge of his vision. “Who?”

Oikawa scowled half-heartedly. “You know who.”

After a beat Iwaizumi inclined his head. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Did Sugawara have you wrapped around his finger like that too?”

Oikawa felt a small bit of reminiscent laughter build in his throat. “He has that effect on people.”

There was a moment where Oikawa thought that Iwaizumi might accuse him of being horrible again, but instead he turned to lean on his shoulder and murmured into the dark space between them. “I know the type.”

This time Oikawa’s breath did catch in his throat, rather audibly. “What’s that supposed to mean, Iwa-chan?” His fingers had gone numb and he flicked them out to dance playfully against Iwaizumi’s bare chest, a smile creeping over his lips as the words began to settle further into his mind.

Iwaizumi caught Oikawa’s fingers in his own very unromantically, his eyes flashing and his demeanor turning shrewd. “Nothing,” he grunted out, shaking off Oikawa’s intense gaze.

“Iwa-” Oikawa started, wanting nothing more than to tease, but finding his mind trailing elsewhere until suddenly the track was changing drastically. He grinned, all teeth at the new thought. “-will you go dancing with me tomorrow?”

Caught entirely off guard, Iwaizumi jerked back and fit Oikawa with the most adorable little scowl of quirked brows and narrowed eyes. “ _What?_ ” 

Oikawa beamed in response and watched Iwaizumi closely until he saw the very moment when the other man realized that Oikawa Tooru had him right where he wanted him. 

Oh yes, this was certainly turning out to be an interesting adventure. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I promised you guys Iwaoi hell and I am nothing if not true to my word. This gives a tiny bit of insight on the whole Suga/Oikawa relationship that some of you are curious about, but I didn't want to give too much away because I will be exploring that further in the main story. 
> 
> For now, I beg you all for your approval of this because I fear I had a little too much fun writing it.
> 
> Also, if you're wondering- yes, this is posted in lieu of the next installment of We'll Eat Cake. We will pick up with Chapter 11 next week and I hope this can hold you over until then! (Also, there's a hint at the end here of what's to come in Chapter 11 and I literally can't wait.)


End file.
